


enter the arena

by multicorn



Series: an affair and an adventure [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-13
Updated: 2013-03-13
Packaged: 2017-12-05 04:57:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/719134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multicorn/pseuds/multicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Kurt beats Rachel at Midnight Madness, Adam challenges him for next week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	enter the arena

When Kurt wins the students’ vote at Midnight Madness, he’s happy, but most of all he’s surprised.  Even stunned.  In part because he never wins anything (not by himself, not  _as_  himself, team championships aren’t quite the same), but also because - it’s always been a fact of his life that no one can win against  _Rachel_.  Not him, not Mercedes, even when they’re definitely better, none of his friends and no one he knew and none of their mutual enemies either, because it’s just not how the world works.

Tonight he’s in a new world.

Rachel turns away when people start moving, and Adam hugs him in congratulations but he barely feels it.  He’s not quite floating, but he was somewhere else out there, with the song, and now that people are walking out of the room and talking and opening the door to let in the light for intermission it all feels a bit strange.  Rachel is already walking away, shoulders slumped and feet dragging, she’s not waiting for him after all, and he knows that she’s probably going home.  “I’ll see you later,” he says quickly in Adam’s ear, and doesn’t wait for a reply before he moves to catch up to her in silence.

“Leave me alone, you can gloat later,” she says, and wraps her arms around herself.

“I wasn’t going to gloat,” he says, because it’s true, she doesn’t make it any  _fun_.  “Will you let me walk you home?”

Her sideways smile is only a flicker of put-on bravery, but she sticks out her hand and he takes it firmly, and they walk hand-in-hand like that to the train.  He’s worried about her, she’s moving like a bird with a broken wing, but he keeps it firmly in the back corner of his mind for now.  She’ll be okay, and he’s not ready to leave behind the flying feeling of victory so soon.

~*~

Adam insists on taking him out for a celebratory dinner the next day.  “It’s an honor to dine with the champion,” he says when they’re seated, and Kurt ducks his head to hide the smile because it’s so ridiculous.  There’s a feeling of truth meant underneath it, though,  and he either feels a little bit dizzy again or he never really stopped.

“And thank you for defending the Adam’s Apples, too.”

“It was nothing,” Kurt demurs.

Adam taps his foot under the table, teasingly.  “You’re my hero.”  Kurt can’t help but remember Blaine’s similar words, so bright and earnest.  You’re the bravest person I know, you inspire me, Kurt, you’re a hero to all of them even if you don’t know it yet.  But Adam says it lightly, playfully, and though the lack of pressure should be a relief it somehow leaves him disoriented.

“I try.”

“Really, though,” Adam says, after their food has arrived, “what did you think of the whole Midnight Madness thing?  Do you think you’ll be going back again?”

“I don’t know,” says Kurt, and chews his salmon, and thinks.  He’s used to performing for fun, or to try to show people something, or to let out pain.  His art isn’t a weapon, it’s expression and joy.  But he’s drawn, somehow, to the darkness of the room, the game of secrecy, the knife’s-edge possibility of acclaim or perdition.  He’s not quite sure if he likes it, but it feels like somewhere he belongs.

“You could beat any student at this school,” Adam says, and touches their feet again under the table, the little reminders telling Kurt that he’s not alone and not quite in the midnight room after all.

“Could I.”  And it’s not a question, but a meditation.  He doesn’t really want to, even, but could he do it?  The boast to the sycophants was easy, because they’re not much of a challenge, but plenty of people at NYADA would be, and he’s never, despite all of his boasts, truly thought that he was the best.  But now.…  His world is turning, spinning, and he doesn’t know which way is up.

“I know you could,” Adam says.  “I have faith in you.”

Kurt looks up finally, inquisitive.  “Are you planning something?”

“I’m going to challenge you next week,” and Adam’s still smiling, but that could mean anything.  Kurt doesn’t know him well enough yet to be able to guess.

So he stills, foot swinging, fork suspended in the air.  If this is what’s being asked of him, there’s no other choice but - “okay.”

~*~

On Saturday Santana moves into his apartment, and Kurt, crowded beyond the thinking of it, goes over to Adam’s.  They haven’t known each other that long, just a few weeks really, but he doesn’t have that many other places to go and - well.  He hasn’t felt this close to anyone this fast since he was seventeen and alone in high school, and he met Blaine.

It’s momentarily awkward when Adam opens the door with surprise on his face, but when he sees Kurt he grins immediately, and then Kurt does too.  “Hey Kurt!  What’s up?  Come on in!” and he gets out of the way, and Kurt does.  “Is everything okay?” Adam asks, “I didn’t know you were coming over, you didn’t tell me or anything.”

Oh.  “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I can leave if you want,” Kurt says.

“Don’t go, it’s fine.”

“I have another new roommate.  Unannounced, for the second time in a month.  And I just couldn’t - ” he waves his hands, vaguely.  “I’m sorry.  Next time I’ll call.”

“Hey,” Adam says, “you can always come here, honestly.  I like having you around.  I’m just saying you should call first in case I’m not here, or I’ve somehow turned into a monster or something.”  He holds out his arms for a hug and Kurt leans into them, warm and almost familiar.

“Thanks.”

Adam squeezes him once, and then lets go.  “So.  I’m making cookies for everyone who’s building the set for the April Fools’ play tomorrow, do you want to help?”

“How could anyone say no?”

~*~

The first batch of cookies is in the toaster oven - there’s no real oven in the place, so they’ll have to make a ton of batches, and Kurt kind of wants to use it as an opportunity to experiment, but Adam had already started the dough without leaving any room or ingredients for adjustments, so maybe later - and they’re cuddling on the couch, trying to keep one ear out for the timer.  The cuddling descends into kissing, and it’s so easy when they’re alone, alone together, there’s a whole giant world outside these walls but inside there’s no one who could object or even care and it’s so easy.  Kurt tries not to think about the space and time that he thought he’d have one day soon with Blaine; Adam is here, now, and he’s nice and he’s hot, and he doesn’t deserve that sort of split attention.

But he doesn’t seem to mind when Kurt’s focus drifts for a minute and his mouth goes lax; he doesn’t ask what Kurt’s thinking of, either, which is a blessing.  He just works harder to bring Kurt’s attention back again, moves the kisses from Kurt’s mouth down to his shoulders and the backs of his hands, tongue dragging roughly down between his index and ring fingers and back up and Kurt feels it and is recalled to himself again.  He’s done so many things before, but he’s never done exactly *this*….

A new world, he thinks, and shivers, and curls his fingers into Adam’s mouth.

~*~

The timer dings, and Adam gets off the couch, and Kurt follows to talk to him while he takes out the cookies.

“So why did you challenge me to Midnight Madness?” he asks.

“Maybe I just wanted to hear you sing.”

Kurt raises his eyebrows.  “You can hear me sing anytime, you know.  You don’t need to find an excuse for it.”

Adam laughs, and turns back to Kurt, the second batch of cookies safely installed in the toaster oven.  “Honestly?  I think you need to learn how to fight.”

Kurt’s very still, his back straight against the back of the couch, when he says, “what do you mean?”

“The last time you sang at Midnight Madness your performance was incredible.  But you kept saying it was just dumb luck that you won, and Kurt, I’m sorry, but if there’s one thing that’s more important than talent in this business it’s confidence in yourself.”

“So you’re, what, challenging me to try to teach me some sort of  _lesson_?”  Kurt can’t help if his voice is going up to the screeching point again, because this is ridiculous, he’d thought he was so comfortable here and this is  _horrible_.  Has Adam just been using him in some sort of twisted NYADA  _game_  -

“Because I know you can do it,” Adam says, earnestly, “but that’s not important, what’s important is that you know it too.  You can’t ever give up or go easy on the competition, you can’t show any mercy if you want to succeed, you have to be willing to fight to the  _death_  for it.”

“And you think I don’t know that?” Kurt says, white-hot with rage and righteousness.  “You don’t know  _anything_  about me.  Just because I don’t want to _hurt_ people for a song, you think I don’t know how to fight - “

“What I don’t understand, actually, is why you’re getting so upset, but if you could just tell me - “

“You’re a horrible person,” Kurt says, and fishes his coat and bag out from under the couch.  He starts tugging them on angrily.

“Are you really walking out?” Adam asks, confused, “after what you just said about fighting?”

“Good _bye_ ,” Kurt spits out, ferocious and  _betrayed_ , as he slams himself out of the door.

~*~

He goes to NYADA, finds a practice room open (Saturday evening and not even in the run up to exams, the campus is mostly deserted), and sings out his confusion and loneliness and pain.  Why do people at this school think that music is for fighting; why is the one person he thought he’d maybe got to know trying to make _plans_  for him without asking.  How can Adam hug him and kiss him and then challenge him to something that he’s making sound like a duel.

When he’s hungry enough to leave the school to go home, Santana’s on the couch but she tells him there are leftovers in the fridge, and he admits to himself that roommates do have some uses after all.

~*~

On Tuesday night he shows up at Midnight Madness.  There’s no reason not to.  And Rachel insisted (once he made the mistake of telling her) that he can’t let a challenge to sing go unanswered, the whole school would talk about it, it would be a  _disgrace_.

He hasn’t talked to Adam since he stormed out of his apartment on Saturday; hasn’t called or texted or anything, and Adam hasn’t contacted him either, so fine.  He’s here now of course, somehow more beautiful since Kurt hasn’t seen him for a few days, but he doesn’t go over to talk to him and Adam doesn’t come to him either.

When they’re called up to sing the song chosen is “The Impossible Dream.”

Adam sings first, since he issued the challenge.  He - well, he hits all the notes comfortably, at least.  But that isn’t quite fair.  He sings well enough, simple and true, building straight to the end.   _Still strove, with his last ounce of courage, to reach the unreachable stars_.  There’s a scattering of silent applause around the room, and Kurt can’t even look at what’s on Adam’s face right now, because he’s already standing up to get ready to sing.

_To dream the impossible dream_ , he starts, like a prayer into the darkness, and feels the answer come back through his lungs; it’s not impossible, he’s here.   _To bear with unbearable sorrow, to run where the brave dare not go_ , and he doesn’t have to think of it, sorrow or bravery or all the contradictions, just  _feel_ , because there are no other and no better words than ones like this set to story and music.  _To love_ , his whole heart cries,  _pure and chaste from afar_ , and there’s no this is me and this is Blaine, this is unrequited pining and this is distance, they’re all the same, blurred into the music and magnified by each other.   _To fight for the right without question or pause, to be willing to march into Hell_ , and Hell is a victory even if you never march back out, and Heaven is frightful and strange and maybe for a second right here.   _If I’ll only be true to this glorious quest_ , he sings to the end of the song,  _then my heart will lie peaceful and calm_  as a nuclear explosion that’s millions of miles away  _when I’m laid to my rest_  victory and prices and  _one man_  fierce acceptance of it all,  _scorned and covered with scars_  his voice comes finally to the last note pure and cold as starshine itself, and resolves ringing to silence.

Most of the room moves to his side of the floor.  Adam’s supposed to be standing opposite him, he remembers, but he gives him a little smile and a nod and moves to stand next to Kurt on his side of the floor too, and a few more people follow.

Of course he wins.

Rachel squeals and claps for him; he embraces her and says, “I have to go now, but I know you’ll beat little Cosette.”

Adam follows him out the door.  “I wasn’t planning on vote for you, I promise” he says.  “But after I heard your performance,” he shrugs, “I just couldn’t honestly do anything else.”

“Even though you can’t ever give up?” asks Kurt.  But he’s dancing around it, halfway to teasing, and honestly right now he just doesn’t care.

“Hey, I’m not even a performance major,” says Adam.  “I already know I’m not the best singer.”

And Kurt hears him, but with winning again, or maybe just singing in that midnight room by the ghost light again, or maybe both, he’s flying around in the sky and glowing with light, and he’s not really listening to anything else at all.  “We should go home,” he says, and tries to catch Adam’s hand.  He remembers, aimlessly, the way Blaine would look whenever he won; so proud, and luminous with desire.

But Adam evades him and says, “let’s get froyo first, there’s a 24-hour place open just a few blocks from here and, we can go somewhere else afterwards, if you want.”

~*~

The yogurt is colder than the air, but sweet and creamy and a little bit tart; it doesn’t go well with vibrating at singing frequencies, and anyway the walk there took a little time too, and he slowly comes down.  Watches Adam sitting across from him, and wonders what’s supposed to happen next.  They had some sort of fight, and what  _are_  they anyway, he doesn’t know if he’s supposed to know.

“I know we haven’t talked these last few days, but I do still want to keep hanging out with you,” says Adam.  “Do you still want to spend time with me?”

Kurt sucks in the yogurt on his spoon.  “Of course.”  He can’t even remember anymore what he was so angry about - or, well, he can, the manipulation, Adam’s insinuations that he didn’t know how to fight - but somehow it all feels resolved by the song.  Maybe it hasn’t been, though, because sometimes things are but sometimes they aren’t, his time with the New Directions and Rachel and Blaine and everything has taught him that.  “Are we okay?”

“I guess so,” Adam says, but even the drag of his plastic spoon through his yogurt is reluctant.

So Kurt puts down his spoon and asks.  “What’s the problem?”

“You don’t really think I’m a horrible person, do you?”

“What?”  Kurt thinks back.  “Oh, no.  I don’t.  You’re not.”  He smiles at Adam, small and questioning, and Adam half-smiles back.

“But you’ll say things like that.  And I can ignore it,” he shrugs, and Kurt feels so small, he didn’t  _mean_  to, “but when you stormed out of my apartment the other night….  Kurt, I didn’t know if you were ever coming back.”

“I didn’t know either,” Kurt says honestly.  “But I will now.  I promise.”

And Adam’s smile means so much more to him now than it did last week; how is this happening, it’s still nothing compared to Blaine of course, but it’s more by itself every day.  “I’m glad.  Because you were right that I don’t know you that well, and you don’t know me that well either.  But I really want us to.”

Kurt licks his yogurt straight out of the cup, and kicks Adam’s foot gently with his own.  “So do I.”


End file.
